A Reconciliation
by ConstructiveRomance
Summary: Even the perfect couples argue sometimes.


**A Reconciliation**

* * *

He could say it was like an uncomfortable itch that was just out of your grasp, irritating and bothersome. That would be inaccurate though, too nonchalant a description for how he felt in the aftermath of a fight with his girlfriend. It was more like a dull ache in your bones after a life-threatening battle.

Which, if you knew Harry Potters girlfriend, made sense. It was more than that though - there was an unsettling feeling that accompanied it, sat heavily in his chest and made everything he did a laborious task. The world didn't sit right, and part of him hated that. Harry didn't enjoy being so utterly dependent on someone. Granted, he had depended heavily on her since the day he met her, but this - this was different. Sometimes, it felt like without her happiness would be a slippery, fleeting feeling.

This time, he wasn't sure how they could overcome their differences. It was as humbling a feeling as it was horrifying. Harry always took it for granted that they would reconcile any difference of opinion or mistake they made. After all, hadn't they always? They knew each detail, fibre, truth and lie about the other. It was a reassuring, comforting element of their relationship. Where he faltered, she knew him, she lifted him. When she fell, he held out his hand, boosted her.

He felt a deep, very real dread at the prospect of their upcoming conversation. It was the desperation to resolve this dread that led Harry to where he was now, staring blankly at her office door. It was almost 8pm, the Ministry building contained only the overworked few now.

Harry refused to let himself contemplate anything but them finding a resolution, but in the moments where he weakly couldn't help but entertain such thoughts, he pictured it. Harry knew how her expression would look; the furrowed brows, the sad, glassy eyes and chewed lip as she explained _she had to leave him. 'Harry, you know I love you, but this is not going to work.'_

Shame burned him; he had said things he didn't mean. Words that were foreign, flying from his mouth with little consideration and even less thought. Harry knew he was liable to fly off the handle now and again, but he knew he had crossed a line calling her 'mental' , as if he believed it. He had to admit it to himself - he knew that would hurt. Harry _knew_ how important it was to her that he understood her, that he never thought her habits were crazy, and he used it against her.

Suddenly feeling defiant, Harry reminded himself that she had been no shrinking violet either. He had spent hours replaying the cold, acerbic words she spat at him, 'Oh, I'm mental? If I wanted to be in a relationship with someone who called me that, I would have stayed with Ron.'

There was no doubt in Harry's mind that she didn't mean this. He didn't even know how the argument had escalated, and his utter insistence that he was in the right was shook. Normally, they listened so well to each other, it was one of the hallmarks and strengths of their relationships. How had they so completely neglected to use it here?

"Harry, are you coming in?" Hermione's voice broke through his thoughts.

She wasn't filled with rage any more, he could hear that. Sighing, he opened the door to her office and quickly closed it behind him. He wasn't fond of people catching any glimpses into their personal lives.

His eyes widened slightly upon seeing her before he quickly schooled his features. She looked as bad as he felt.

Deep lines framed her eyes, pronouncing the purplish bags, and her lips were cracked badly - Harry knew she had been picking them in an anxious frenzy all day, causing guilt to to override all other emotions swirling around in him. Her hair was wild. It always held an element of untamable freedom to it, but today, it looked frazzled and alive. Harry gulped.

"Hermione."

She nodded, business-like, as if he were some client or stranger, "Harry. I'm glad you came."

He tried to fight the anger that rose at the flippancy of her words, "Eh, thanks?"

Hermione's eyes finally met his, and it weakened any irateness that had been building, "Maybe you should sit?" She gestured to the seat across from her, and he was aware that they were still separated by her large, cherrywood desk.

He obliged, and then blurted, "I didn't mean what I said earlier. You're not mental, furthest thing from it."

She softened, "I know. I'm sorry, too, I shouldn't have mentioned Ron.. it was a low-blow, and Harry, you know I never think of -"

"I know," He interrupted her gently, nodding, "We weren't so admirable or heroic in how we handled our anger."

A smile ghosted across her face, "We can't always be heroic."

Silence enveloped the room then, usually a happy companion to their peaceful times together, but he found it oppressive, overwhelming now. He realised he actually resented the feeling - how could he possibly not be comfortable around Hermione?

"You know how important your opinion is in the Wizarding world." She said quietly, her gaze settled on her hands folded on her desk. He briefly wondered if this was how it felt to be a colleague of hers.

He closed his eyes, weariness sweeping through him as he answered, "I'm not an authority on all topics. I won't use my influence as an abuse of power, I don't want the trouble. It's not fair of you to ask that of me."

He heard a sniffle and, regrettably, looked over at her. His heart clenched as he watched her swiftly catch a falling tear. That would annoy her, he knew. She hated getting upset in times of discussion. Harry hated watching her get upset. It bothered him more than crying himself, and he felt something tighten in his chest. This was ridiculous.

"Hermione, come on," He stood and transfigured the chair into a more comfortable armchair, trying to resemble the one from the Gryffindor common room. He had never been excellent at transfiguration, but the red, plush chair was more than enough. Harry held out his arms then, beckoning her towards him. She stood, but then hesitated, and he sighed, "Come on, this is ridiculous. We both need this, we can still talk." Hermione didn't move, and he added then, allowing some of his need to slip through, "Please, Hermione."

This seemed to crack her resolve, and in a flash, she was rushing around the desk and throwing herself into his lap. Her arms flew around his neck, bringing him into a tight, crushing hug. Harry held her back as fiercely, relishing the feeling after two days without her. He closed his eyes, rubbing her back slowly as her grip relaxed. She pulled back to look at him, and stroked his cheek once before whispering, "We can come to an agreement on this, right?"

He nodded eagerly, "Absolutely. There's no other option. Right?" He hated how young he sounded in that moment, how he still sought out her comfort and reassurance. Harry didn't know if he would ever believe Hermione wanted to be with him forever. Although they weren't married, she had expressed feelings such as that before.

"No other option." She repeated firmly, taking his hand and squeezing it. Words failed for a minute before Hermione asked him, "How was Teddy yesterday? I feel terrible that I missed a play date."

"Don't feel bad, it's not often you miss one. He's good anyway, at that stage where all he can talk about his Hogwarts."

Hermione stifled a laugh, "It's going to be a long five years till he gets his letter."

"Tell me about it." Harry shifted them so she was still sitting on his lap, but half leaning into the corner of the chair, too. "I know you never ask anything like this of me, I know you never have, but you must realise it'll put me in a horrible position. People will be hounding me for answers, for reasons, and christ, I'll be all over the papers again."

Hermione was stroking the back of his hand, the sensation putting him at ease, "I understand that, but you must realise how important this is to me. Too often, we in the magical community are condescending and degrading when it comes to Muggles. This is a step too far of that - it's, it's like affirmative action of something more sinister."

Harry frowned, "What exactly do you want me to say? Hermione, if -" His words died in his throat, the awareness of how they would hurt her caused him to falter. He purposely looked away as he found the courage to continue, "if this is going against the statute of secrecy, if - if you want to merge the two worlds.. Well.. I - I'm not sure I _do_ support that."

He heard her swift intake of breath, and turned to see her rub at her face. When she replied, her voice was muffled by this action, "I'm not saying we run screaming to the Muggle world now. I think - I think we have to stop hiding. Harry, there are so many lives that could be saved in their world with our magic. Hiding it is cowardly and selfish. Why are we hiding it, because they'll react unfavourably? In that case, we're afraid of Muggles and should stop insisting upon this sense of superiority."

"We _are_ rather outnumbered." Harry pointed out, "And I've seen enough of those superhero movies to know that they keep it secret for a reason."

"People will be afraid, but they will also be educated. I don't think we should waltz out in front of Big Ben and turn the tower red with magic, we do it gradually with the government. Think of the advancements - muggle technology is incredible, you know, it could be a two-way street -"

"You're not asking me to speak about that though, are you?" Harry asked, curiosity in his tone more than reproach.

She shook her head, "I would prefer it… but mostly I would love for you to oppose this bill seeking to research the spell."

He contemplated this.

"Do you think a spell or rune like that could even be developed?"

Hermione shrugged, "It's magic, Harry, there's little I doubt with enough research. I think they would need a lot of muggle-borns on the project to understand the internet and technology surrounding it, but it could be done given enough resources and time. It seems wrong. It's illegal to obliviate another wizard, why should we so casually implement a spell that obliviates any person who sees something related to magic on the internet?"

Harry agreed with this. He didn't feel comfortable with the establishment of this department that was proposed - the 'magical secrecy ensurement' department. It's day to day research was intended to reach the 'undesirables' that were outside the scope of the existing departments. The whole proposal was spearheaded by a couple of old pureblood wizards, but Harry also couldn't deny that the phenomenal invention of the internet did seem to pose a threat to wizarding secrecy.

"They could never control such a spell very well, but no one would care, because they're Muggles. The details of the bill are purposely vague because they don't care as long as they're protected." Hermione paused and added, "Not to mention how on earth they would manage to implement it, the Muggle government would never agree to it! And so, what? We add another secret to the pack? All it would take is one squib or Muggleborn to get angry and easily prove what we had done and so how could we possibly protect against that? Swear every magical being to an oath?" She blew out a breath, running out of steam, "No. No, this is too far. There are alternatives we haven't even _tried_ to explore."

"They're just afraid." He replied, recalling how old Amos Diggory had seemed when he shook, red-faced, telling the cameras how the internet was unprecedented in the history of mankind and a threat to all wizards. An all-seeing, lightning quick, other entity. Harry wouldn't pretend to understand the inner machinations of the internet, but there was something godly to how Diggory described it that was utterly absurd.

It was wise to be aware of it now, to prepare, but the time for pitchforks was not now.

"Exactly!" Hermione exclaimed, eyes bright, "They're scared but we're all _people_ and it's not fair and - and -" Harry watched as tears gathered in her eyes again, great betrayals to the strength she tried to keep in her tone. It was a slow understanding that dawned on Harry at that moment.

"Hermione, you've got to stop feeling guilty about your parents."

She froze, mouth agape, tears quietly jumping from her cheek to his jumper, "I'm - I'm not feeling guilty. _Remembering_, sure.. But I.. I.. That's not what this is about."

He nodded; there was no need to push her on this. She heard his words. Despite her objection to what he said, Hermione leaned into him a little more, her head coming to rest on his shoulder. He heard her sniffle. "I do miss them."

"I know." He took both her hands and softly kissed them, but didn't offer anything further. They had discussed this many times, at length, just as they had discussed his own guilt. Hermione needed his presence, comfort and strength in these moments now.

"I love you," She said softly, and even after being together for two years, Harry still felt a skip in his heart at the declaration. His throat still felt oddly tight afterward, and there was an unmistakable emotion that flooded him afterward; happiness, joy, relief, _love_.

His finger lightly traced the back of her hand, "I love you, too."

"You're right. I shouldn't ever ask you to use your influence and fame. It's something I always swore I would never do. It's no better than the leeches."

"You could never be a leech, Hermione," He said, amused, but sobered quickly, "And you're right, too. I should use it for good when I can. I can't sit idly by on important issues."

She sat up with snap, staring at him with wide, hopeful eyes. God, he hated and loved that look; it was terribly hard to resist. He worried that she could ask him to murder someone with that look and he'd happily head off to do it.

Harry held up a hand to stop her, "Wait, now. I won't be making any sort of declaration on the statute of secrecy. I'm not sure we should be breaking that or give it up. I will make a statement condemning the bill and the new department and - well, you know.." He felt embarrassed now, but she only grinned.

"Your word will basically kill it," She finished for him, glowing. "This is a compromise I can be entirely content with. Although I will occasionally badger you about the statute."

"I would be worried for your health if you didn't."

Hermione wound her arms around his neck again, "When did you become the politician, anyway?"

"It's easy to have more tact than you, Hermione. Bleeding hearts don't compel old codgers." He playfully tapped her nose.

Hermione scrunched it under the action, "You've got a good point. Come on, chosen one, Mr. Politician,"

He groaned, "No, please, you know I really do hate politics.."

She laughed, the sound bright, and warmth bloomed in his chest, "That's why they say you're great at it."

"Who says that?" Harry swiftly asked.

"People," She said casually, waving him off. Hermione stood then, pulling him up with her, "Can we please go home now? I've missed you more than I'd like to admit the last two days."

He couldn't help the grin that grew as she spoke, "It's pathetic, isn't it? I was a miserable sod at work today."

She matched his expression, "Me, too." His heart felt so full, and he wondered how he possibly ever doubted that they would make it out of this conversation. Of course they would work it out. The unadulterated adoration that lurked in her eyes as she gazed at him prompted him to finally pull her close and kiss her soundly.

As it grew heated, Hermione apparated them home. He would face facts later: he would probably make any statement for her to look at him like that forever.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading!

I'm not entirely happy with this one, but there's something about it I enjoy - I like an established HHr relationship sometimes, y'know ? I'm trying to churn out some one-shots to practice writing for some multi-chaptered stuff I want to throw myself into.

If you fancy it, let me know what you thought :)

CR.


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